A Stitch in Time
by GrandOldPenguin
Summary: Nick and Judy discover that the fox they just arrested for practicing without a medical license is more than just a phony plastic surgeon.
1. APEIS

**July 14, 2017**

Judy stared at the needle the doctor had left on the counter when she had asked him for a final sip of water before the surgery. She rubbed the fur on her nose that would soon be removed and shivered when she imagined the scalpels, scissors, rasps, and other instruments cutting and reshaping her delicate snoot.

And yet, she had nothing to fear at all.

"OK, Nick," she whispered into the tiny microphone hidden under her purple T-shirt. "Come in. We've got him."

Dr. Cunningham, a well-groomed, blue-eyed, medium-built red fox in his mid-sixties, stepped back into the room with a small plastic cup of water in his paw. He handed it to his patient.

"Thank you," she said. She sipped slowly, waiting for her partner to arrive.

A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" the plastic surgeon said.

The door opened, and in stepped Clover, the office's crowned lemur receptionist. "Doctor," she said, "this gentlemammal is with the Zootopia Police Department."

"Officer Wilde, ZPD," Nick said, pointing at his badge as he entered. "Dr. Frank Cunningham—or, more accurately, Frank Cunningham—you are under arrest for practicing without a medical license."

The doctor looked curiously at Nick for a moment and then shook his head. "There must be some mistake. I have been practicing in Zootopia for twenty-five years. I've administered Botox to Gazelle. I did Paulina Swinton's liposuction before she ran for mayor."

"And now you're revealing patients' private medical histories, violating HIPPO rules," Nick said as he took out a pair of appropriately sized pawcuffs. "Maybe you did do those things successfully without a license, but you were very lucky. You could have seriously injured or disfigured someone without proper training." He took Cunningham's paws and started cuffing them behind his back. The fraudster didn't resist. "Actually, you nearly did. My partner doesn't need a nose job; she's perfect just the way she is."

Judy felt the heat of a blush as she got up from the operating table.

"Anyway," Nick continued, "you have the right to remain silent, and you should probably exercise it. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney and to have one present during any questioning. If you cannot afford to hire an attorney, one will be appointed to represent you. But I'm sure _you_ can afford one, right, doc?"

"_Nick_," Judy said. It wasn't the first time she had had to remind him not to add snark to the _Mirpanda_ warning. And it probably wouldn't be the last.

Upon hearing the officer's first name, Cunningham turned his head as much as he could toward the fellow red fox who had just cuffed him. Again, he looked at him for a moment.

"Problem?" Nick asked.

Cunningham shook his head. "No, no. Never mind."

Nick was used to it. With the cases they had solved and being historic firsts on the ZPD, he and Judy had become famous names in Zootopia. "All right, then. Let's go," he said as he led the arrestee out of the room.

— § —

Nick turned to his partner, who was in the passenger seat of their ZPD cruiser, as they headed back to the precinct. "Do you need help?"

Judy's paws were underneath her shirt, fumbling with something. "Ah! Ah! Ooh! No thank you, Nick. Ah! Come on! Come on! Yes! Ow! I got it!" She pulled her paws out, and in the right one was the microphone that had been taped to her chest. Attached to the tape were several clumps of white fur.

"Ouch, Carrots."

Judy tossed the microphone and the small transmitter connected to it onto the dashboard. "Maybe next time we do a sting operation, I can be the arresting officer, and you can wear the wire."

"Not a chance. I gave up conning others, and I'll never go back."

"Not even for an extra kiss from your girlfriend?"

"Uhh ..." Nick said as a blush came to his face, hidden only by the color of his fur. "What girlfriend might that be?" He checked that the road ahead was clear for a moment and then leaned into Judy's ear. "We're on duty. And more importantly, we're not alone." He gestured his head slightly in the direction of their backseat passenger.

"Right, right," Judy whispered. "Sorry."

"The answer's yes, though. I'll wear the wire next time." He sat back up in his seat before Judy could say anything more and turned his attention back to driving.

— § —

In the booking room of Precinct 1, Frank Cunningham lifted his right paw off the paw- and hoofprint scanner. Gone were the days of black ink and index cards; everything was now digital.

"Thank you," Jeff Tuskarora, a warthog who was the booking room officer, said. "And now your left one."

Just as he had been with his right, Cunningham was slightly hesitant, but he complied with the officer's request.

"Good. Got it. That's all I need from you. Officer Delacouri will escort you back to the holding cell." Jeff looked toward the black leopard a few feet away and waved her over. "All yours, officer."

Delacouri led Cunningham out of the room.

After entering the final pieces of information, Jeff submitted the booking record to the ZPD database. A window popped up with a green bar showing the progress made comparing the new record to existing ZPD records and the federal Animal Print Electronic Identification System.

After seventeen seconds, the system returned a match.

Jeff opened the old record and manually compared identifying points on the old pawprints, which had been collected on an index card in 1988 and later scanned into APEIS, with the prints collected digitally minutes earlier. Except for a scar line almost all the way up the paw pad of the right thumb on the new record, the prints were an exact match. "Hmm." He printed the old record and the new record and then left the booking room to let Nick and Judy know what he had found as they worked on their arrest report.

"Officer Hopps," Jeff said as he walked up to Nick and Judy's workspace, "is your partner around?"

"Officer Wilde went to get us some coffee," Judy replied. "He should only be a few minutes."

"Well, I'll tell you now and then you can share with him." He handed Judy the printout of the older ZPD record. "Got a hit in APEIS for the quack you brought in."

Judy looked at the photograph of the fox on the printout for just a second and then held the paper back out for Jeff. "I think you handed me the wrong record. This isn't the fox we arrested."

"The computer says it's a match, and I verified the points of minutiae myself. I think your phony doctor changed his appearance and has been practicing under an alias for years."

Judy looked at the real name of the arrestee. Her ears drooped.

"Something wrong?"

"No, no," Judy said, part in reply to Jeff's question and part to reassure herself. "There are many Hoppses in Bunnyburrow who aren't—" She shook her head. "Never mind."

"Right," Jeff said, not fully following but not really needing to. He handed Judy the printout of the newer ZPD record and left a moment later.

Once she was alone, Judy set the newer record down and focused on the older one. She could definitely see some resemblance in the color photo from 1988. She looked at his date of birth. _Born in 1953 and it's 2017, so he's sixty-four. Subtract thirty-four; he was thirty in 1983. Add five—_

Judy's mental math was interrupted by the sound of coffee mugs being placed on the desk. "You all right, Carrots? You seem deep in thought."

"Jeff stopped by. I was just trying to figure something out."

"Something I can help you with?"

"No!" It came out much stronger than she had intended.

Nick threw his paws up. "All right! I won't pry!"

Judy sighed. "Nick, I'm sorry. I just wanted to be sure before—" She paused. The guilt of keeping something from Nick—her partner on duty and off—was too great. "Nick, do you know anyone who was born on April 11, 1953?"

Nick's eyes widened. "That's my father's birthday."

"And his name is John, correct?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah. Oh my God, what happened to him?"

Judy picked up the older record Jeff had printed. "According to APEIS, the doctor we arrested today had been practicing under an alias. Nick"—she paused for a moment, putting a paw on her partner's arm—"his real name is John Wilde."

Nick took the record from Judy. "No, that doctor looks nothing like—" His green eyes caught the photo on the paper. The brown eyes of his father looked back. "Oh my God!" The paper fell from his paw and fluttered onto the desk. "It really is him. I haven't seen him in twenty-seven years, and then I arrest him." He shut his eyes and brought a paw to his forehead. "I don't know whether to feel guilty or glad."

Judy picked up her coffee mug. "Nick, you told me that your father was a tailor and that your parents divorced when you were young, but that's all you've ever shared. Tell me more. What was he like?"

Nick sat down in his chair and turned to his partner. "He was a good father and a good guy. He was a calm mammal who never lost his temper with anyone. He had a good sense of humor; in fact, he was the first one I ever heard tell the three-humped camel joke. He knew how to fix a lot of things that had nothing at all to do with tailoring, from a leaky roof to a leaky car radiator, and he often let me help him. He bowled sometimes and was good at it; he golfed sometimes but _wasn't_ any good at it. He ate raspberries like I eat blueberries. He enjoyed singing in the shower a little too much. He kissed my mom at least three times a day—they seemed to have a perfect and loving marriage." He paused for a moment. "Then one day, without warning, something changed between them. I came home after school to find my mom crying at the kitchen table. She told me that my dad loved me, but that they were no longer going to be married. The night before was the last time I ever saw him. Until now."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. She didn't tell me when I was seven, and any time I'd ask her when I was older, she'd just shake her head and say, 'It's too painful, Nicky.' Eventually, I stopped asking."

"Do you want to know?"

"I don't know. I mean, I want to know, but I don't know if I _want to_ know. You know?"

Judy nodded. "I know."

Nick stayed silent for a moment. Then he pointed at Judy's coffee mug, which was back on the desk. "Mind if I hustle this?"

"I sipped it."

"Doesn't bother me," Nick said as he picked up Judy's mug and took a swallow. He set it back down for a moment and picked up his radio. "Officer Delacouri, this is Officer Wilde. Could you please bring Frank Cunningham to Interview Room 3? There are a few questions I would like to ask him."


	2. The Interview Room

After quietly switching off its recording equipment, Nick entered Interview Room 3, the handles of two mugs clutched in his left paw. "Coffee?" he asked.

"Please," the older fox replied. Deemed cooperative, he sat uncuffed.

Nick set his mug in front of John and kept Judy's mug for himself. He took a sip and then set it down as he sat down. "Another officer will come by shortly to inform you of release details before your court appearance. My partner and I can no longer work on this case. Department policy." Nick gripped the edges of his badge with his right paw and undid the pin with his left. He dropped the gold shield into his left shirt pocket. "But I'm not here about the case, Dad."

John said nothing as twenty-seven years of pain and regret turned to tears and shame. He shut his eyes and rested his head in his paws, elbows on the table.

"Dad?" Nick stood up and walked over to the other side of the table. He stood to John's left and placed his right paw on his estranged father's back.

John lowered his head in his paws a little more. "When I realized that my son had arrested me," he said with a breaking voice, "I was hoping for your sake you wouldn't find out who I am. I guess it was being arrested for shooting off fireworks in the park on your fifth birthday, for which I was ultimately given a small fine, that revealed my true identity." After a few moments, he uncovered his face and wiped his eyes on a sleeve of his blue-checkered shirt before turning to his son. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice a bit more stable. "I was a weak mammal. Your mother deserved so much better, and so did you."

"What happened?"

"She never told you?"

"She always told me it was too painful to talk about."

"Well, she's right. It's still painful to think about." He took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. "I loved your mother, Nick. And I still do, no matter what she thinks of me. But I made the biggest mistake you can make when you love someone. I—" He again used a sleeve to dry his eyes. "She was nothing special. She came into the shop maybe three or four times, and we had some pleasant conversations. But then those conversations turned more intimate. The devil took the form of a vixen nine years younger than your mother, and I gave in to the temptation."

"You what!" Nick ripped his paw off his father's back. "How could you!"

"I've asked myself that every day since our first liaison. I'm no closer to an answer than I was then."

Nick shook his head in disgust. "How long did this go on?"

"We met twice a month for four months until she called it off the day before I was caught. She informed me of the breakup by slipping a note into my suit pocket, a note your mother found before I did. 'Dear John,' it read. 'Today was our final time together. I am leaving Zootopia for a quieter place to raise our son. Please don't search for me. Love, Cinza.' I never saw or heard from her again."

Nick's eyes widened a little. "A son?"

"I never knew she was pregnant. She was too early." John paused for a moment. "I think about him often too, Nick. God, I hope he turned out all right. Cinza and I did wrong, but he's still my son." He paused again. "And you're my son. Nick, from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry that my stupidity caused you to grow up without a father. I'm sorry for all the pain and confusion you felt and may still feel. I'm sorry for everything. It's a lie that time heals all wounds; I can never be forgiven for hurting you or your mother. Just know that I never stopped loving either of you."

Silently, Nick looked at his father for a moment. His decades of reading other mammals told him that every word of regret was true. He hesitated for a second, but with a sigh, returned his right paw to John's back. "You did a horrible thing, Dad. You broke Mom's heart, and you just broke mine." With his left paw, he dried his own eyes with his tie. "But my heart breaks for you too. I forgive you."

John shook his head. "Nick, you can't forgive something like—"

Nick moved his paw to his father's shoulder. "Many mammals have hurt me in my life. Only two ever cared enough to apologize. It means more than you know."

"Thank you." John dried his eyes again and then stood up. "Officer Wilde, first fox in the Zootopia Police Department," he said as he touched Nick's nametag. "I am so proud of you. Seeing you make the world a better place, knowing you turned out all right, I could never be happier in being arrested." He reached out and hugged his son for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. "No matter what happens to me now, it was worth it."

"Arrested," Nick said quietly as he returned his father's embrace. "Why did you do this, Dad? Why are you Frank Cunningham?"

"Because it saved my life." The foxes let go of each other after a moment and sat down again. "You see," John continued, "in a very short span of time, I lost everything. My wife. My son. My career since your mother was awarded the shop. Most of my savings went to her and to lawyers, so there was no trying to start up another tailoring business somewhere else. My home. Any sense of purpose or meaning in my life. Soon, I didn't even want to live anymore. My heart was broken, but it was still beating; one night, I tried to fix that problem."

"Oh, Dad."

John held up his right thumb. "I missed and hit a rib, which caused me to lose my grip on the knife handle and my thumb to slide halfway down the blade. The cut was deep, all the way to the bone; I never knew a thumb could bleed so much. And painful. It shocked me into realizing that what I had attempted was not the answer. I wrapped my thumb in a washcloth, tied a towel around my chest, and thought for a moment about whether I was going to call 911 or drive myself to the hospital. Then a third option came to me. I was a tailor. Why go to a hospital and have to explain my story when I have my own needles and thread? It wasn't the easiest thing using my left paw and my teeth to do what I would normally do mostly with my right, but I managed to sew my thumb closed using a version of the whip stitch. After sewing up my chest wound next, which was surprisingly less severe, I had unofficially become my first patient. Fast-forward about a year. I had been able to borrow some money to try to get back on my feet from an unsavory character known to me only as Formaldehyde Clyde. He was the boss of an acquaintance of an aardvark whose suit I had altered a few times. I had hoped that I'd be able to start paying back the money after finding a new job, but my job search was not successful. When I kept choosing to pay the rent rather than making payments to Formaldehyde Clyde, he didn't take it well. One night, a brick was thrown through my window. A week later, I was beaten by two of his henchmen. It doesn't take more than a few punches from a tiger and a few blows from the horn of a rhino to do a lot of damage. My body was largely spared, but my face was like a one-hundred-piece jigsaw puzzle with two dozen pieces missing."

"And so you again stitched yourself back together," Nick said.

John nodded. "That's right. Only this time I did a lot more. There was so much damage that I was going to look different anyway, so I decided to change everything I could. I was no expert back then, of course, but with some crude cuts, cruder skin grafts and fat transfers, fabric dye, a fur brush, and an extremely high tolerance for pain, John Wilde disappeared forever. With a few possessions and all the cash I had left, I walked out of my apartment two nights later and traveled by taxi to Happytown, where I stayed in a flophouse and assumed my new identity as Ronald Loki, a welder out of work following an industrial accident. It explained my less than perfect appearance. He was one of six identities I assumed as I moved throughout Zootopia, continually adjusting my appearance as I studied books and medical journals to learn anatomy and surgical techniques. It was medical school without the professionalism but also without the cost or the time commitment. In just nine months, I had the appearance that I have today."

"That's ... impressive, Dad," Nick said. "But also scary. _Very_ scary. There's a reason doctors spend years in school before being allowed to practice."

"I know. Truthfully, I never intended to have any patients other than myself. But I was still out of work, so when I learned that Meadowlands Hospital was looking for more reconstructive plastic surgeons, I took a shot by falsifying my credentials and references. Somehow, someway, everything checked out, I passed three rounds of interviews, and they gave me a white coat with the hospital's logo embroidered over the right chest and my name embroidered over the left—Dr. Frank Cunningham. My starting pay was two hundred dollars an hour."

"One hundred pawpsicles," Nick whispered quietly to himself.

"I'm sorry?"

Nick shook his head. "It's not important."

"My first patient was a six-year-old possum girl. She had burns on 30 percent of her body because her younger brother played with matches. He didn't make it out. She needed debridement and skin grafting. I was nervous, but I treated her tissues like the most delicate fabric I had ever altered. The surgery was a success, and I saw her eight more times over the next year to make improvements as she healed. She made me think that if I could do some good while being a fraud, was I entirely bad? After five years exclusively at the hospital, I started my own surgery center, focusing mainly on cosmetic surgery, though I still went to the hospital usually once a week. Tomorrow was going to be one of those days, but I'm sure right now my keycard is being deactivated by security."

"You were a hustler, but you were still a good mammal deep down."

"Yeah. I guess that's one way you could put it."

"It sounds a bit like me. I never intended to be a cop. I never thought about being anything after trying to join the Junior Ranger Scouts when I was eight, only for the other scouts to reject me the night of my initiation because, as a fox, I was considered untrustworthy. I decided then that I wouldn't try to be anything more than the shifty fox the world saw me as, and from when I was twelve until just two years ago, I was a small-time con-mammal. I never robbed banks and I never snatched purses from old ladies, but I straddled the line between unethically legal and technically illegal. In my last year before going straight, I resold deceptively acquired popsicles for a large profit, sold knockoff and misidentified goods, sold personalized Bibles that were supposedly ordered by late husbands to their recent widows, returned empty soda bottles to districts with higher bottle deposits, faked a fall at the supermarket to get free blueberry pies, and other such things. It wasn't until I was hustled by a rookie rabbit cop and had to help her on a case that I began to believe again that I could be something more. She saw the good in me, we learned from each other, and together we took down the mayor."

"'Crooked Dawn,'" John said with a chuckle. "The biggest political scandal in Zootopia since Waterbuckgate." He paused for a moment. "I don't know if I can pick my job, but if I end up making clothing, I might have to stitch her uniforms so they're a little too tight."

Nick laughed. And then quickly frowned as the reality of what his father had said set in. "I'm sorry."

John shook his head. "Don't be. If you didn't put the cuffs on me, someone else would have eventually. I brought this on myself."

"You didn't hear it from me, but maybe before your trial a new welding shop will open in Zootopia?"

John shook his head again. "I'm not going under my own knife again just to run from my problems."

Nick nodded. "Well, with the length of time you claimed to be a doctor and the amount of money involved, you could spend the rest of your life in prison. More likely, though, you'll get closer to a fifteen-year sentence. The good news is that with parole, you might be out in as little as half that."

"Seven and a half years," John said. "Looks like I'll miss the wedding."

"What wedding?"

"When Officer Hopps becomes the ZPD's second Officer Wilde."

Nick blushed. "Are we really that obvious?"

"Yup." The older fox smiled and pointed across the table. "Also, you're using her coffee mug."

Nick picked up the beverage that had cooled forty degrees since he had brought it into the room and took a sip. On the mug was the word _Judy_ spelled out in carrots.


	3. It's a Small World

Judy clicked on the printer icon and instantly smelled coffee. She turned around to find Nick carrying her mug and his, each filled to the top. "How'd it go?" she asked as she took her mug from him.

Nick waited a moment for Judy to finish her sip. As she set her mug on the desk, she felt herself being lifted from her chair. Her journey ended quickly, though, as the lingering taste of Yakswell House with two spoonfuls of sugar was replaced by the taste of Nick's lips.

Ten seconds passed, then twenty, then sixty. "I love you, Judy Hopps," Nick finally said after nearly ninety seconds of kissing his bunny.

Judy blushed, aware that almost every eye in the room was on them. "I love you too," she whispered, "but, Nick—"

"Forever and ever and ever."

"Nick."

"I'll never let you go."

"Nick!"

Now _every_ eye in the room was on them. A few officers had even started to come over from other areas of the precinct.

Nick's pulse quickened as he too began to blush under his fur. He set his girlfriend back in her chair and then gestured toward the others to shoo. "All right, back to work, back to work. You're not getting paid to gawk. Reports won't write themselves, phones won't answer themselves, and criminals won't arrest themselves. Clawhauser, did you just take our picture?" As fellow members of Zootopia's Finest started to resume their duties, Nick turned back to Judy. "I'm sorry. It's just the reason for my parents' divorce. My father cheated on my mother. He's felt guilty about it ever since, but he still did it. I just had an overwhelming need to tell you how much I care about you. I need you to know that that's never going to be me."

"Oh, Nick, I'm so sorry," she said as she put a paw on his arm. "But it's not genetic. I know you, and I trust you completely, just like you trust me."

Nick smiled. "Thanks, Carrots." He paused for a moment. "Well, except for the heartbreaking truth, it was good to see Dad again. His story of how he became Dr. Cunningham is complicated but also pretty sympathetic. I also learned that I'm not an only child. Dad's affair lasted just a few months but it produced a kit, a son, whom he has never met. I'll tell you everything we talked about later."

"Later? Are you leaving?"

Nick nodded. "Are you OK without me? I asked the chief if I could punch out a little early. I want to take Dad to my apartment so he won't have to face the horde of reporters who, I'm sure, have surrounded his house in the Meadowlands."

"I'll be fine. So he's being let out on his own recognizance?"

"No. I called"—he leaned into Judy's ear and whispered—"I called our, uh, _small friend with a larger name_ out in Tundratown, and he sent someone over with cash for the rather high bail. His service fee is being billed to me." He stood back up fully. "Little Judy, by the way, is doing well. She's going to be a big sister soon, and she's very excited."

The godmother smiled. "Aww!"

"We've got the next two days off, so we'll get together at some point. But I'll call or text you tonight after things are settled." Nick picked up his coffee mug. "A few swallows for the road," he said before taking a few gulps. He set the mug back on the desk. "You can finish the rest. After all, I hustled yours earlier."

Judy looked into Nick's mug, which had his name on the side spelled out in blueberries. There was only one sip of coffee left. Two if she really savored it.

— § —

About an hour after his call with Nick, Mr. Big's most private cell phone rang again. He tapped the green button to accept. "That was fast."

"Actually, sir," Raymond said, "I'm calling to let you know that we don't need to threaten him with icing after all. Formaldehyde Clyde has been dead for three years. Loxo had him put in the concrete when Central Station was having a platform upgraded."

Mr. Big tapped his fingers on the armrest of his tiny chair. "Hmm. I don't like the idea of the elephant boss of Savanna Central seeming tougher than I am. Go down to Central Station and threaten him anyway."

"Yes, sir."

— § —

"_Good evening and welcome to _ZNN at 6_. I'm Peter Moosebridge._"

"_And I'm Fabienne Growley._"

"_We begin the new hour with continuing coverage of today's top story, the arrest of a longtime plastic surgeon who was never licensed to practice._"

"_Moments ago, our Tucker Snarlson spoke with the director of Meadowlands Hospital, where the fake doctor began his career of deception. Tucker?_"

"_Thank you, Fabienne. I'm here at …_"

Elizabeth Wilde muted her TV when she heard a knock at her door. He hadn't called ahead, but she had been expecting him. She stood up and tried her best to collect herself as she went to answer it.

"Hi, Mom."

Tears welled up in the sixty-two-year-old's green eyes as she reached out to hug her only child. "Oh, Nicky. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry for you too," Nick said as he returned the embrace. He held it until Elizabeth let go to dry her eyes with a tissue.

The vixen backed up a little to allow Nick to step inside. "I had the day off, and I was just watching ZNN for a short time this afternoon when the story broke. It's been 90 percent of their coverage since. How did you learn?"

"Judy and I were the ones who arrested him," Nick said as he closed the door.

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. "No!" She brought the tissue back to her eyes. "Oh God!"

"It was a planned sting to catch an unlicensed doctor. Judy posed as a patient. We didn't know that the doctor was Dad until about an hour later when his pawprints matched ones already in the system. I talked to him privately for a while after that. If he hadn't been arrested for shooting off those fireworks on my fifth birthday, I never would have guessed that he was my father. His changes to his face are just that good."

"I know. Every time they put up his picture, I can't believe it's him, and I was married to him for eleven years. Even his eyes are different."

Nick nodded. "Blue contact lenses."

"Such an elaborate deception. I never thought he'd be capable of something like that, but I never thought he'd throw away our wedding vows either."

"It breaks my heart that he did that to you. Part of me is glad you kept me in the dark, and another part thinks it would have been easier in the long run to have known the truth a long time ago. But my heart breaks for him too."

Elizabeth said nothing but she looked disgusted.

"He says he still loves us, Mom, and I believe him." Nick gestured toward the couch. "Let's sit down for a bit. I have a lot to tell you about Dad's life over the past twenty-seven years, and I'm sure you have some things to tell me."

— § —

For more than ninety minutes, Nick told his mother about his father's deep regret, his suicide attempt, and how he had made the unplanned transition from an unemployed tailor to a surgeon trusted by average mammals and A-list celebrities. Nick explained that he had a lot of sympathy for John despite his flaws, and that he was sad that his father's arrest had ended the closest he had ever been to true redemption. Elizabeth told her son about the pain of losing the love of her life and how being a mother was the only thing that had helped her through the long, lonely nights. She explained how she had kept the last name Wilde for Nick's sake even though it filled her with sadness. She regretted, though, pressuring John to not seek visitation rights, admitting that Nick probably would have had a less rough childhood and teen years if he had had his father in his life.

Finally, the room fell silent. Every question that mother and son had for each other seemed to have been answered.

Except for one.

"So ... are you going to see him?" Elizabeth asked after a moment had gone by.

"Who? Dad? Yeah, like I said, I took him to my apartment right before—"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Not your father. Gideon."

Nick cocked his head. "Who's Gideon?"

"Your father didn't tell you?" Elizabeth paused for a moment. Slowly, she realized. "He doesn't know." She paused again. "Gideon is your half brother."

"How ... how do you know who my half brother is?"

"Your father's mistress asked him not to look for her, and it seems he honored her wish. But I didn't."

Nick's eyes widened. "What?"

"I needed to know who this homewrecker was, so I sold my wedding ring and used the money to hire the private detective Adrian Shrewlock. Almost immediately, he was able to link the paper she had written on to a certain cheap motel, and after investigating there, he was able to tell me that Cinza was just this vixen's alias. Gwen is her real first name, and _cinza_ is a Porkuguese word for her real last name, Grey. Adrian tracked Gwen to Bunnyburrow—"

"Bunnyburrow?" Nick whispered to himself.

"—to the same house where she had lived since coming to Animalia from Porkugal with her mother and sister when she was young. She worked at a cannery, where her job was to inspect labels on cans of sweet peas to make sure they had been glued on properly. Talking casually to neighbors and coworkers, Adrian learned Gwen was single throughout her adulthood but that she had long talked of wanting to be a mother. That obviously wasn't going to happen in Bunnyburrow, where there were almost no other foxes. So she came to Zootopia in search of a suitable, healthy tod. To put it crudely, Gwen was never interested in your father, she just needed a sperm donor. Once pregnant, she returned to Bunnyburrow, where she gave birth to a son in May 1990."

It was deep into the twenty-first century, but ZT&T still printed phonebooks annually. Elizabeth got the latest Zootopia and Outer Burrows edition off a nearby shelf and flipped to _Bakeries_ in the yellow pages. She handed the open book to Nick. "This is your half brother."

Wearing a pink apron with a smiling pie on it, the blue-eyed plump fox who shared a father with him stood cheerfully behind the counter of his bake shop. On a tray were some pies still steaming from the oven. "'Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff,'" Nick said, reading the ad. "'Made with fresh produce from'—he briefly paused—'Hopps Family Farm'?" He turned to his mother. "That's Judy's parents' farm!"

"It's a small world, Nicky."

"Does he know what happened?"

"I don't know. I didn't follow much of his life growing up. I don't blame him at all or harbor any ill will against him, but he's still not my son. Though it was your graduation from the police academy that suddenly made me curious enough about him again to Zoogle him."

"Well, he should know. If he's anything like me, he has questions that he long ago gave up on." He looked back at the ad and started tearing out the page. "Questions that might finally be able to be answered over slices of blueberry and raspberry pies. And later, some carrot cake."


	4. Love of Raspberries

If Nick had held his smartphone any tighter, the screen would have cracked. "It doesn't matter that it was seventeen years ago!"

In the parking lot of the apartment complex, a beaver who lived three doors down from Elizabeth briefly looked toward the fox shouting outside his car before continuing to her own car.

"Nick," Judy said at the other end of the phone, "he was a jerk, but he changed and I forgave him. Sound familiar?"

"I didn't think you'd ever be a real cop and I called you a 'dumb bunny.' Gideon didn't think you'd ever be a cop at all and he clawed your face. These are hardly equal offences."

"True enough. But he was ten when he did that, and he wasn't as bright as you were at that age. I told you because I didn't feel it was right to keep it from you, not so you can teach your little half brother a lesson that he doesn't need to be taught. If you want me to go to Bunnyburrow with you and to stay at the farm, you'll have to promise that what I just told you will stay between us."

Judy heard silence for a moment before Nick gave his answer. "All right. For you, Judy, I promise."

"Good. I'll let Mom and Dad know to expect us sometime tomorrow afternoon and that we're bringing a guest. Everyone always enjoys your visits, and I'm sure they'll enjoy meeting your dad. Oh, you might want to warn him about the kits, though."

"Yes, it will be their first time exploring a fox who's a little older. I'm sure he'll find it cute to be hopped on—or 'Hoppsed' on—by the youngest members of your family." He paused for a moment. "I should tell him the 'cute rule,' though: that to call a bunny 'cute,' you need to be a bunny, be in a relationship with a bunny, or be intent on annoying the ever-loving fluff off a bunny."

Judy lightly groaned. "Skip that last one, Slick."

"Sure, cutie."

He was miles away, but Judy could still see her fox's sly smile.

"All right," Nick said. "I'm going to head home now. We'll see you tomorrow morning at six."

"Good night, Nick. See you tomorrow. I love you."

"Love you too, Fluff."

— § —

**July 15, 2017**

Judy was waiting outside her apartment building when Nick pulled up in his red Herd Mustang convertible at 6:02 a.m. John was in the passenger seat.

"You're late, Nick!" Judy called over to him with a laugh.

Nick lifted himself up a little in his seat so Judy could see him better. "Yes, but"—he adjusted the knot of his tie and shook the collar of his Pawaiian shirt—"_fashionably_ late."

John opened his door and took a few steps toward Judy as she was walking toward the car. "Good morning," he said as he extended his paw. "You look familiar. Have we met?"

Judy shifted her bag to her left paw and smiled awkwardly as she took the fox's paw. "Good morning, Mr. Wilde."

"Oh, you can call me John. We're friends now. Please don't feel awkward. You and Nick had a job to do yesterday, and I'm OK with it. I have no hard feelings."

Judy nodded lightly. "Thank you."

John let go of Judy's paw but continued speaking. "I was also just doing a job yesterday. When performing surgeries, I always kept my personal opinions out of what adult mammals were willingly paying to have done. You came to my office looking for rhinoplasty, and I just wanted to give you what you wanted. But let me just say that Nick was absolutely correct when he said that you're perfect just the way you are."

Judy chuckled lightly and blushed even more. "Thanks."

John offered to take Judy's bag, and he set it on the opposite seat as he got into the right back seat. Judy sat next to Nick up front.

"So, do you remember how to get to Bunnyburrow?" she asked.

"Drive for two hundred miles and then turn left onto the dirt road."

Judy rolled her eyes. "Come on, Nick. You know that the streets in Bunnyburrow are paved."

— § —

After belting through the first chorus, Judy stopped singing along with "Try Everything" on the radio. "John, don't say anything you can't," she said, "but since we already know, what was it like working on Gazelle?"

It was two hours into the journey, and everyone was enjoying being together as city gradually faded to country. As they didn't have to think about driving, Judy and John were especially able to get into conversation and really get to know each other for the first time. John was happy that his son had such a great girlfriend, and Judy recognized John as a flawed but good mammal whose regrets were genuine.

"She was the first of a pawful of A-listers who came to me over the years," the former surgeon replied. "I won't share their names, but I will say that Gazelle was responsible for bringing most of them to me. It was a bit of a shock the first time she came in, but I always tried to treat her like any other patient. I think she appreciated that I never threw a big fuss over her and that I was never visibly starstruck."

Nick chuckled. "The opposite of Clawhauser."

Judy let out a laugh too. "Yes. Benjamin Clawhauser, a cheetah who works at the front desk at our precinct, is a huge Gazelle fan. And I mean _huge_. He knows every word to even her most obscure songs. He has a ton of her merchandise, and would probably try to buy one of her used Botox syringes if he could get his paws on one. He would never stalk her or intentionally make her feel uncomfortable, but he wouldn't be able to stop smiling if he ever got the opportunity to provide security to her at one of her concerts, which is a longtime dream of his."

John chuckled. "All syringes were destroyed as biomedical waste. None ever made it to eBray. Anyway, just as she appreciated that I never made her feel like the celebrity in the room, I appreciated that she was willing to come to me at all. What she says about equality in public she believes just as much in private. My business was successful and served mammals of all sizes and species, but I still lost many potential patients because of being a fox. Anti-fox sentiment was a problem that sometimes happened as a tailor too." He paused for a moment and then smiled. "But Zootopia and the world are getting better. Being arrested by fox and rabbit police partners proves that we're moving in the right direction."

— § —

Nick slowed down a little to reduce the amount of dust being kicked up as the asphalt suddenly ended. "What was that about the streets of Bunnyburrow being paved?"

Judy crossed her arms. "Well, _most_ of them are. I haven't been this far down Lutein Lane before. Gideon always comes to the farm; none of us have been to his shop."

John had never eaten a butterfly, but his stomach felt like he had eaten a kaleidoscope of them and forgotten to chew. The moment was close. By some miracle, his older son had been able to accept him again in a day. Would his younger son be as accepting?

After about half a mile, Nick turned right into the dirt parking lot of 960 Lutein Lane. Only one other vehicle was in the lot: Gideon's van, parked in front of the right corner of the building. "Well, this is good," Nick said as he parked near the left corner of the building. "We're early enough that he's probably not too busy." He shut the car off and turned around to his father. "Well, it's the moment of truth. You sure you don't want to do this together?"

John nodded. "I'm sure. I don't want this to be any more difficult for him than it already has to be. He has to _want_ to see me; I won't force him."

"OK," Nick said. He turned back around and opened his door. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," John said.

"You'll do great, Nick," Judy said.

Nick smiled and then walked up to the large window in front of where he had parked, looking for a moment at the variety of cookies, brownies, and cupcakes tempting customers through the glass. It was one of two windows at the front of the wood building, the other displaying mouthwatering cakes and pies, both whole and individually cut pieces. Guitars used to be displayed in one window and a drum kit in the other years ago when Bobby Catmul ran a musical instrument store there before moving the business to Zootopia.

As Nick stepped through the entrance, located between the two windows, he was greeted by the pleasing aroma of hundreds of goods, both baked and still baking. A bell hanging on the back of the door jingled as it was opened and shut.

Gideon looked over his shoulder at the new customer as he slid a loaf of zucchini bread into the oven. "Good morning!" He was a bit surprised to see a fellow fox in his establishment. There were so few foxes in Bunnyburrow that he thought he knew them all.

"Good morning," Nick replied as he walked toward the counter. "My friend says you make the best blueberry pie in the tri-burrows."

"Your friend is mighty kind," Gideon said, now completely in front of his customer.

"I was hoping to get a slice." Nick smiled. "Or to at least start with a slice and then maybe have some more if it's as good as she says."

"Sure! You get the first slice of the day." The business owner picked up a metal pie server and bent down a little to access the glass case built into the counter. The case had all kinds of cakes, pies, and other tasty treats, all different from what was displayed in the windows. He picked up one of the eight pre-sliced slices and put it onto a ceramic plate, which had the bakery's smiling pie logo on it, along with a fork. "Here you go," he said as he set the plate on the counter.

"Thank you," Nick said. He picked up the plate and held the slice right up to his mouth, taking his first bite without using the fork. Some blueberry filling spilled out onto the plate. "Mmm, this _is_ good! Judy was right."

The pastry chef smiled. "Thank you. Though much of the credit belongs to the Hopps Family Farm for growin' the blueberries. I get all my produce fresh from them."

Nick scooped up the spilled filling with his fork. "That's my girlfriend's parents' farm."

"Now ain't that a small world? So it's Judy you're datin'?"

Nick nodded.

"I went to school with Judy and several of her siblings from the third grade on. I was a year older on account of havin' to repeat it. Before then, I went to school with some of Judy's other siblings." He chuckled. "There were Hoppses in every grade at Woodlands Elementary School, if I recall correctly."

Nick nodded. "It's a big family. When I was here another time, we were at the diner and Stu started showing me the photos he had in his wallet of all his kits. I finished four cups of coffee before he was done."

"Yeah, it's a big family. Mostly farmers, but that Judy wanted to be a cop since almost forever. I'll admit I wasn't the nicest guy when I was younger, and I didn't think she'd ever get very far. But I'm glad I was wrong and that her dream came true. You know, she doesn't know it, but I think some of her dreamin' even rubbed off on me and helped me finally find the courage to start my own business."

"That's our Judy. She rubbed off on me so much that six months before we started dating, I became her police partner." He took another bite of his pie, continuing to use the fork. "Mmm. Aren't blueberries just the greatest?"

"You know, I like 'em, but raspberries are my favorite. I can't get enough of 'em." He looked down at his plumpness and patted his belly. "Although maybe I should try."

Nick chuckled. "I wonder if it's genetic."

Gideon cocked his head. "My weight?"

Nick shook his head. "No, no. I mean, I got my green eyes from my mother, and I share her love of blueberries. I don't know about your mother's eye color, but your father is crazy about raspberries."

"Well now, my mother did have blue eyes like me, but I can't say if my father liked raspberries or not. I, uh ... I never knew him. Ran off before I was born is what Ma told me."

"Hey, I can relate a little. I knew my father, but my parents divorced when I was seven. I didn't see him again until yesterday, twenty-seven years later. I learned a lot of things yesterday, including that I have a half brother here in Bunnyburrow. Today I learned that my half brother shares my father's love of raspberries."

"Here in Bunnyburrow? Wow, there aren't too many foxes here in Bunny—"

Nick nodded slowly as Gideon realized. "Yeah," he said softly. "You have a half brother who loves blueberries." Nick glanced down at the pie. "Especially these blueberries." He set his plate down and held out his paw. "I'm Nick. Nick Wilde."

"Gideon Grey," Gideon said as he shook Nick's paw. "Oh my. No one ever told me I wasn't an only child."

"I don't think your mother knew about me when she briefly knew our father. And even if she did, there was no reason to ever have to tell you."

"So he never wanted to see you after seven like he never wanted to see me at all?"

"That's not true. Dad loves us both."

"But Ma—"

"Didn't tell you the whole story."

"But, but—"

"Gideon, listen to me," Nick said softer and calmer. "I know this is all a shock to you. It was for me yesterday. Dad absolutely made heartbreaking mistakes, but my heart breaks for him too. But we can't change the past. We're all a family now."

"H-how do I know you're not p-p-playin' an awful trick on me?" Anxiety and sudden skepticism brought out the baker's occasional stutter.

"Dad and Judy are outside. We came up from Zootopia this morning just to see you. Because we care about you, and questions you've had all your life deserve answers."

Gideon thought for a moment and then shook his head. "I-I-I can't. This is t-too much for me." He turned around and started walking into the kitchen. "En-enjoy the pie, Nick," he said with a wave. "It's free." He turned right and disappeared behind a dough mixer.

Nick sighed as he heard a door open and shut out of view, presumably to an office accessible through the kitchen. He picked up his plate and felt both guilty and respectful as he finished the last few bites of pie. He turned around 360° to look at the place one final time before he left, noticing a tip jar on the counter that he hadn't seen earlier. On one small piece of paper taped to the jar was written, "Tips—thank you! This month's tips donated to," and on a second piece of paper, indicating it was regularly changed, was written, "Bunnyburrow Junior Rangers Pack 31." Nick took out his wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and one of his ZPD business cards. He put the bill in the jar and left the card next to his empty plate on the counter. "It was good to meet you, Gideon," Nick called out into the kitchen. "Thanks for the pie." He then turned around and left the shop.

John and Judy watched Nick walk toward the car without signaling them to come in, thinking that maybe Gideon was going to come out instead.

But Nick shook his head as he walked up to the passenger side. "I tried. But it's not going to happen."

"Oh, Nick," Judy said sadly. Her ears drooped.

John sighed. "Well, he has every right to feel the way he does."

"It was just too much too quick. He had believed all his life that his father had run off before he was born."

John shut his eyes. "That breaks my heart. But I guess what was Cinza—or Gwen, you said her name was—supposed to tell him? That he's here only because I was an adulterer who was himself being used?"

Nick opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't find the words. All he could do was put a paw on his father's shoulder for a moment.

Nick went around to the other side of the car and sat down in the driver's seat. He started the engine for the short drive to the farm, where they would still spend the day and stay overnight before making the trip back to Zootopia in the morning. He shifted into reverse.

"Nick, wait! Nick! Nick!"

Nick had already backed out of the unmarked area of dirt his car had occupied when he saw Gideon running toward the car and shouting at him to stop. He pulled forward again and shut the engine off.

Gideon walked up to the passenger side of the car and looked past Judy to Nick. "Nick, like I said, that pie I gave you wouldn't be the same without Hopps produce"—he looked at Judy—"and the only reason I have Hopps produce is because your parents' minds were opened by you, Judy, and they were willin' to no longer judge me by my past mistakes." He took two steps to his left so he could be right in front of his father's door. "So I should be willin' to not judge someone by their past mistakes either." He extended his right paw. "I'm Gideon John Grey. I was born on May 21, 1990."

John's heart skipped a beat when he heard his son's full name. He took his paw. "John Joseph Wilde Jr."

A look of shock came to Gideon's face, but it quickly faded into one of closure. "I never knew where the _John_ came from," he said after a moment. "Now I know it's the same place my love of raspberries comes from."

John smiled. He broke his grip with Gideon to wipe a tear from his eye. "A mutual friend tells me you make the best raspberry pie in the tri-burrows."

"Judy is mighty kind. Would you like to come in and try some? I have a pie with seven slices left, and I can tell you that the Hopps raspberries taste great this morning."

John nodded. "I'd like that."

Gideon smiled. "Good!" He took a step to his right. "Nick, Judy, you too. I've got more blueberry pie, carrot cake, and so many other tasty things. We're a family now, so let's have a reunion."

John, Nick, and Judy got out of the car and followed Gideon inside. When the final one had entered, Gideon locked the door and flipped the "Come in, we're open" sign around to read "Sorry, we're closed."

— § —

Rabbits were a tough species to grow up around. Everywhere he went as a kit, every day, in every direction, Gideon was surrounded by hopping, jumping, bouncing families, fluffles led in almost all cases by a married father and mother. As large families were common—"The Bigger, the Better!" was the unofficial burrow motto—single-parent warrens in Bunnyburrow were rare; rarer still were kits born who didn't at least know their father.

Knowing he was different from his peers was hard enough. Being teased for being fatherless and illegitimate was the worst of all.

While Nick and Judy helped themselves to whatever baked goods they wanted in the shop, John was sitting with Gideon in the office, silently listening to him talk about his early life. But at this point, he had to say something. He shook his head. "A parent can be illegitimate, Gideon, but no child ever is. Never use that word again."

Gideon nodded. Then he thought for a moment. "Was she illegitimate too?"

"Cinza? I mean, your mother?"

Gideon nodded. "She was always pretty good to me, but I don't think I was planned. She never said anything about how she knew you before the heart attack took her two years ago."

"I'm glad to know she was good to you. And I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"Well, as I learned yesterday myself, she always wanted you. You were very much planned by her. She wanted to be a parent so much that she left Bunnyburrow to find someone to be your father in Zootopia. That's where I owned a tailor shop. Your mother visited it a few times, and though I was happily married to Nick's mother, I started having an affair with her. I didn't know at the time that her only reason for being with me was so she could have you. I didn't know that she was even pregnant until she slipped a note into my suit pocket, calling off our liaisons and asking that I not look for her—or, by extension, you. My wife—soon my ex-wife—found the note before I did. It was the beginning of the darkest moments of my life."

"Ma always told me you ran off before I was born."

"And that breaks my heart, but I understand why she said that." He paused for a moment. "Gideon, I regret what I did to my wife and Nick, and it hurts to now know that I was being used myself. But I have never regretted you. I may not have known your name, your face, or where you were in the world, but you've always had a place in my heart. You're my son no matter the circumstances, and I love you." Tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm sorry you had to grow up without me." The tears spilled over.

As John started drying his eyes on a shirt sleeve, Gideon handed him a clean cloth from his pocket to use instead. He put a paw on his father's shoulder, but after a moment, got up and hugged him completely.

That only made John's tears flow more, and he stood up and returned Gideon's embrace.

With John now holding the only cloth Gideon had with him, the baker had to use his own shirt sleeve after a moment to dry his own eyes.

Silently they stood for several minutes, just holding on to each other.

— § —

After a while of talking together—about their lives, about their mistakes, about happier moments, about things big and small—Gideon left the office with John for a promised slice of raspberry pie. They found Nick and Judy sitting together on stools by the counter, the fox with a third slice of blueberry pie on his plate and the bunny with just crumbs on hers from carrot cake and peanut butter cookies. John pulled out another stool by Nick as Gideon put one slice each on two plates. Then, knowing himself and now knowing his father, he added a second slice to each plate.

"How'd it go?" Nick asked as John sat down.

"We're OK." John put a paw on Nick's back. "Somehow, after decades of hurt, both my sons have accepted me and forgiven me in two days. I don't deserve this."

"You've hurt for decades too, Dad. You deserve at least a few aspirin."

A moment later, Gideon set both plates on the counter. He asked Nick and Judy if they wanted anything more, with Nick being set with his blueberry pie and Judy not wanting anything more at the moment. He then walked around to the other side and took a stool next to John.

For the next while, the four sat together and talked, enjoying each other's company and feeling like they had all been family forever. It was like a Thanksgiving dinner with only the relatives you wanted to see and dessert being the main and only course.

"Many, many years later," John said, now sharing some stories from his careers, "I was looking at ZNN's website one night when I came across a photo of Gazelle and her father at a recent concert. I was going by Dr. Cunningham then and had already treated her a few times. But Gazelle was not what had first caught my attention in the photo. It was the tie around her father's neck, which I instantly recognized as the deep blue paisley one I had custom made for him long before his daughter was a pop star."

"Wow," Nick said.

"You know, coming from Bunnyburrow, I never thought I'd say this," Judy said, "but it really is a small world."

John chuckled. "It really is sometimes."

"It's kinda funny," Gideon said, "but a friend of mine just started a tailor shop a few months ago about five miles from here. I know he's lookin' for some help. It might be just the thing for you if"—he paused for a moment—"if, well, you know."

John sighed. "Yeah, that sounds like something that might have worked. But the job probably won't still be available when I get out in at least seven and a half years, and he probably wouldn't want to hire a felon anyway."

Suddenly, the four heard a knock at the door of the bake shop. Gideon didn't get up, though. "They'll see the sign in a moment. I'll still have plenty of stuff to sell 'em tomorrow."

But the knocking didn't stop. It only grew louder.

"Oh, honestly, now," Gideon said as he shook his head.

"Gideon, you in there?" a male voice yelled through the door. A few more knocks. "I don't have my key. Hello? Hello?"

"Oh, that's right," Gideon said as he stood up. "I shoulda let him know I was closin' today." He turned to Judy. "You remember Travis, Judy?"

Judy nodded. "I do."

"Well, he's my part-time assistant now. Makes a great raspberry coffee."

"Raspberry coffee?" John smiled. "Let him in!"


	5. Consequences

**October 2, 2017  
9:00 a.m.**

From her desk at the front right of the courtroom, the pine marten clerk stood up. "All rise," she said as a black-robed camel entered from a door to the right of the bench. "Superior Court for the Third District of Zootopia is now in session, the Honorable A. G. Rabah presiding. Case number TDZ-CR17-7474505B, _State of New Yak v. John Joseph Wilde Jr._"

"Thank you," the judge said as he sat down. "You may be seated. Please refrain from any conversation or use of electronic devices until this hearing has adjourned. The purpose of today's hearing is the sentencing of Mr. Wilde on all counts of the information, all nine of which the defendant pleaded guilty to at the July 20 arraignment. These charges are serious, and when combined, would carry a maximum penalty of forty years' imprisonment with the possibility of parole after twenty years and a fine of 3.8 million dollars. In determining an appropriate sentence, the court has taken into consideration the defendant's pleas, his cooperation with police and these proceedings, favorable sworn statements from twenty-six former patients, there being no known instances of harm coming to any former patients, sentencing guidelines, the recommendations of the district attorney's office, the defendant's personal and professional conduct, and the defendant having no other criminal record beyond an arrest for possession and discharge of illegal fireworks almost three decades ago. At this time, will the defendant please rise?"

John, along with his attorney, Graham O'Pangolin, stood up.

"Mr. Wilde, on combined counts one through seven of the information, the court hereby imposes a sentence of twelve years' imprisonment and a fine of fifteen thousand dollars. On count eight of the information, the court hereby imposes a sentence of three years' imprisonment and a fine of five thousand dollars. On count nine of the information, the court hereby imposes a sentence of one year's imprisonment. These sentences shall run concurrently, and you shall be eligible for parole after the completion of 50 percent of the longest sentence, assuming good behavior."

Assuming he'd be paroled when eligible, it was a year and a half _less_ than Nick's guess. He nodded lightly.

"Is there any further business to come before the court?" Rabah asked.

"No, Your Honor," Rachel Kiboko, deputy district attorney, a hippopotamus, said.

The pangolin said the same.

"There being no further business, this hearing is adjourned," Rabah said, tapping his gavel once.

As the rest of the courtroom stood up as instructed by the clerk, John felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned to the left and then held out his paws for in-front cuffing when he saw it was the tiger bailiff, a standard procedure for transport to prison despite his cooperation. Once cuffed, he turned his head toward the gallery to look at Nick, Gideon, and Judy, all of whom he had said goodbye to earlier that morning. The next time he'd see them, he'd be wearing not black but orange.

— § —

**11:24 a.m.**

"Here we are," the moose guard said as he pointed, "Cell A113. Home sweet home."

A spotted hyena sitting inside looked up as the guard and his new cellmate approached.

John looked up at the guard. "Thank you." He patted his jumpsuit where nonexistent pockets would have been. "Now is it customary to tip? I don't seem to have my wallet."

"Get in the cell."

As John crossed the threshold, the guard walked away. The hyena walked up to the smaller predator and extended his paw. "Roger Laffer. Embezzlement. Hey, you're that guy who said he was a doctor, right? Who worked on Gazelle and everything?"

John nodded as he shook Roger's paw. "Guilty as pleaded. I'm John Wilde."

"Oh, this is great! Can you look at something for me? I have this tooth—"

"Sorry, I'm retired. Also, I claimed to be a plastic surgeon. I never studied dentistry."

"Right. Right. It's toward the back." Roger opened his mouth wide. "Dwas dat lwook enfecked ta ew?"

John rolled his eyes and then looked inside. A second later, he pulled his head away. "The newest prison janitor could tell that half your gums are infected, Roger. Get an exam at the infirmary today. And have the chaplain say a few prayers for you."

"So you're saying I should start brushing my teeth again?"

— § —

**October 4, 2017**

"Are you sure, ma'am?" the deer asked as he slid the piece of paper he had been handed into an envelope.

The possum nodded to her assistant. "I'm sure."


	6. Another Piece

**October 5, 2017**

With the prisoner he was escorting next to him, the wolf guard knocked on the warden's door.

"Come in," a male voice said from inside.

The guard, followed by the prisoner, entered the warden's office.

"Warden Tian, I'm John Wilde," the prisoner said. "I was told you wanted to see me."

"Mr. Wilde, yes," Tian, a giant panda, said from behind his desk. "Please have a seat."

John sat down in the left of two chairs that faced the warden's desk. The guard remained standing near the other chair.

"Do you know why I've summoned you?" Tian asked.

John slowly nodded. "I believe I do, sir. Even though she caused so much terror in Zootopia, I still shouldn't have used my tailoring skills—"

Tian cocked his head. "What are you talking about?"

John quickly realized the warden was not referring to his unauthorized alterations of inmate Bellwether's uniforms. "Uhh ... the sewing machines in the uniform shop are so ancient they terrify us to use. As a former tailor, I tried to improve the machine I was working on by changing a few settings without permission of the shop supervisor."

"Hmm," Tian said. He put a paw to his chin and thought for a moment.

A few seconds into the silence, John had a feeling the warden did not buy his story.

Suddenly, Tian picked up a pen. "I am making a note to see if some new machines can be added to next year's budget."

John smiled with a quick nod. "Thank you, sir."

"Now, as for you, Mr. Wilde," Tian said as he put down the pen and picked up a manila envelope, "an officer from the Capitol Police Department stopped by this morning to deliver this order from Albaany." He handed the envelope to John. "Congratulations."

John looked at the state coat of arms at the top left of the envelope for a moment and then turned it over. He pulled out a letter-size piece of bond paper, which had the same official emblem centered at the top.

He couldn't believe the words that he read:

**STATE OF NEW YAK  
OFFICE OF THE GOVERNOR**

**AN ORDER OF EXECUTIVE CLEMENCY**

**WHEREAS**, John Joseph Wilde Jr., born April 11, 1953, of the Meadowlands, Zootopia, New Yak, was arrested on July 14, 2017, in a sting operation conducted by officers of the Zootopia Police Department for practicing without a medical license; and

**WHEREAS**, said John Joseph Wilde Jr. pleaded guilty on July 20, 2017, in Superior Court for the Third District of Zootopia to all nine charges stemming from said arrest; and

**WHEREAS**, said John Joseph Wilde Jr. was sentenced on October 2, 2017, in said court to imprisonment terms of twelve years, three years, and one year, to run concurrently and with parole eligibility after six years, and fines of fifteen thousand dollars and five thousand dollars; and

**WHEREAS**, said John Joseph Wilde Jr. was transported to Osbun Correctional Institution on October 2, 2017, to begin serving said sentence.

**NOW THEREFORE**, I, Mary D. Virginiana, Governor of the State of New Yak, by the power vested in me by the Consolidated Laws of the State of New Yak and the Constitution of the State of New Yak, do hereby grant said John Joseph Wilde Jr. a full, free, and absolute pardon for all crimes charged and pleaded guilty to stemming from said arrest and absolve said John Joseph Wilde Jr. of all legal consequences of said crimes and said pleas.

**IN WITNESS WHEREOF**, I have hereunto set my paw and have caused the Great Seal of the State of New Yak to be affixed at Albaany this fourth day of October in the year of our Lord two thousand seventeen.

_Mary D. Virginiana  
_MARY D. VIRGINIANA  
GOVERNOR

Below all the formality and legalese of the order was a paw-written message in blue ink:

_John, I was the recording secretary for the Zootopia Board of Education in 1992 when my three-year-old son accidentally started a fire that cost him his life and badly burned my six-year-old daughter. Despite your lack of formal medical training, you helped ease her pain, saved her appearance, and quite possibly saved her life. Today she is a teacher at Ronald Preygan High School. I am forever grateful.—Mary_

John's paw shook as he put the paper back inside the envelope. "She was my first patient," he said, his voice breaking. "She made me believe that if I could do some good while being a fraud, I wasn't entirely bad." He dried his eyes with the sleeve of his cotton-poly jumpsuit. "But I don't know if I deserve this."

"Mr. Wilde, I will grant that the governor pardoned you for purely personal reasons. She'll face criticism for it, and might even lose next November. But I'm familiar with your case, and I can tell you that your continued imprisonment would serve no purpose. I've been in this chair for thirty-four years, and I can tell in three seconds who's going to be a recidivist and who had already reformed the moment the cuffs went on. You're the latter. A good mammal who made a mistake but who never hurt anyone."

"Only members of my own family. Fortunately, being arrested led to many of those wounds beginning to heal."

"Then may your release lead to the healing of the rest." Tian stood up and walked around his desk. He extended his paw to John. "Good luck, Mr. Wilde."

John stood up and shook the warden's paw. "Thank you, sir."

— § —

**March 4, 2018**

Riding with Judy in a gondola in the Rainforest District, Nick pointed down at a clear highway they were about to pass over. "Wow, look at all the traffic down there. It's not even rush hour yet."

Judy looked down but didn't notice any great congestion. "Where?" she asked, scanning left and right until they had completely passed the highway. She turned to Nick. "It looks pretty clear to—" She stopped when she saw that Nick was in the middle of tightening his tie. "Nick, what are you doing?"

"I like being relaxed and comfortable, but you know I still tighten my tie on special occasions," Nick said with a warm smile as he finished his adjustments. "And I can't think of one more special than this." He reached into his right pants pocket and took out a small purple velvet box that perfectly matched Judy's eyes. Getting down on one knee, he opened it. "Judith Laverne 'Carrots' Hopps, will you—"

Nick hadn't even finished asking before Judy hopped up at him with arms wide open, wrapping them around his neck.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said as he embraced his fiancée.

— § —

**July 27, 2018**

Unlike some of her sisters had been, Judy was no bridezilla as her wedding day approached. She had requested only a few basic and decorative alterations to her dress, which she had purchased in Zootopia and had taken to skilled paws in Bunnyburrow.

"So, what do you think?" the tailor asked as he brought out the strapless but modest trumpet silhouette gown. He had altered some wedding dresses before but didn't specialize in bridal attire.

Judy gasped. She reached out and touched the flowery lace color accent that had been added near the bottom of the white dress, which was mostly the same blue as her ZPD uniform top but had small areas the same purple as her eyes. She smiled. "This is beautiful, John."

Her future father-in-law, who was now living with Gideon and employed at the same tailor shop his son had mentioned a year ago, smiled back. "I knew you'd like it."

"I love it!"

The fox smiled again. "And I know Nick will too. But as nice as this dress looks on the hanger, it would look even better on you. Go try it on."

Judy took the dress from John and headed for the changing room.

Just eight days to go before the wedding.

— § —

**August 4, 2018  
12:17 p.m.**

Wearing a dark gray tuxedo with a tropical Pawaiian pocket square, a white shirt, and a white bow tie, Nick entered the church's small meeting room and walked over to its only occupant. He took a moment to admire her light pink dress. "You look beautiful, Mom. Come on. The photographer's ready, Judy's ready, I'm ready, Stu and Bonnie are ready—"

"I know, I know. And _he_ is ready. Everyone's waiting for me."

Nick put a paw on his mother's shoulder. "If you can't, we understand."

The vixen shook her head. "No. I'm going to do this for you and Judy. It's just so hard to have to see him again."

"I know. But it'll be over quick. Just a few shots of the bride, the groom, and the parents together. The four of us will be between you and Dad. You don't have to say even a single word to him. I'm not going to ask you to dance with him at the reception. I'm not going to ask you to be in photos with Gideon."

"I'd rather be in photos with Gideon," Elizabeth said as she stood up. "Gideon did nothing wrong."

"Gideon hurt Judy when they were kids. He also regrets it, and Judy forgave him. It's only because I love Judy and trust her judgment that I didn't bake Gideon into one of his own pies when I found out. Mom, you don't have to forgive Dad or pretend that he didn't hurt you. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't regret what he did. I wouldn't want him in my life if he didn't."

— § —

**3:50 p.m.**

"I do," Nick said.

"And do you, Judith Laverne Hopps," the Rev. Daniel Pawlowski, a middle-aged light brown bunny, said, "take Nicholas Piberius Wilde to be your lawfully wedded sweetheart, your husband, your partner on duty and off, and do you pledge to love him, cherish him, serve him, and protect him, in good times and in bad times, in health and in sickness, in happiness and in hustles, until the twelfth of Never do you part?"

Judy said nothing. For a few seconds—hours to the guests and an eternity to Nick—she just stood there, her paws and the fox's still joined. Then suddenly, she let go and reached under her dress to pull out an object that she had secured to her leg with her garter. She handed it to Nick.

The fox looked at the carrot pen for a moment. Though this part of the ceremony hadn't been rehearsed, he instinctively knew that he had to play a recording.

"_I do_," Judy's recorded voice said.

Nick looked at his bride even more lovingly than after he had received his badge from her. He pressed the button to record. "Sly bunny," he whispered into the microphone before handing the pen back to Judy.

Judy smiled. "Dumb fox," she recorded as a whisper of her own before putting the pen back.

"Well, that was unscripted," Pawlowski said with a laugh. Many guests chuckled as well. "But it still counts!"

Nick and Judy exchanged rings and then held each other's paws once more.

"Before God, family, and friends, Nicholas and Judith have pledged themselves to each other," Pawlowski said. "Therefore, by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce them husband and wife, and I invite the couple to seal their commitment with—"

The clergymammal had only four more words to say, but Nick and Judy couldn't wait. For the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Wilde, fox lips and bunny lips met.

"—their first wedded kiss."

— § —

**7:43 p.m.**

Gideon chuckled. "Another one, Dad?" he asked as John passed the dance floor on a repeat trip to the wedding cake table. Most guests and members of the wedding party were currently shaking their tails—some more gracefully than others—to the tunes of DJ Finnick. Gideon himself was dancing, quite well, with Sharla, one of Judy's bridesmaids.

John smiled. "It's not raspberry, but what can I say? You made a great cake."

The baker returned the smile.

When he reached the table, John picked up his fourth piece of light-purple-frosted goodness of the evening, his second with a confectionary rose. Roses had circled the sides of each of the five tiers except the topmost, which instead had blue flowers unfamiliar to most: _Midnicampum holicithias_—night howlers—a subtle reference to the flowers involved in Nick and Judy's first case. Standing on top of this tier, which was now on display and which Nick and Judy would save for their first anniversary, were wooden figures of the partners for life wearing their ZPD uniforms, which had been carved by Judy's grandfather and painted by her grandmother.

John turned around to head back to his seat just as Elizabeth was approaching the table. She moved a little to her right so she could walk by him but John went a little to his left, accidentally keeping them in front of each other. She then made a quick step to her left but John simultaneously stepped right. He then stepped a little more to his right, with Elizabeth once again moving like a mirror image.

John chucked. "Shall we dance? It is a wedding." He was only trying to chip the icy awkwardness a little.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Ugh." She stayed still and gestured to her left so John could walk past her.

John raised his plate a little. "This is very good cake," he said as he stepped right alone. "This will be my fourth piece."

"I'm getting my fifth," Elizabeth said, barely looking at her ex.

"Well, don't overdo it. You remember what happened last time."

How could she forget? Like Nick and Judy's carrot cake with blueberry frosting, the blueberry cake with raspberry frosting she and John had had on their wedding day also combined their favorite foods. It tasted great, and they didn't think twice about overindulging—ten pieces for John and twelve for Elizabeth. At least not until later that night when they had to stop the consummation of their marriage early after several of those twenty-two pieces were lost between them, vomited onto the hotel bedsheets. They were able to laugh about the experience later, but they never told a soul.

Elizabeth now looked directly at John. "That's not a concern of mine," she said. "More likely you shouldn't overdo it. You're the one who would find an attractive young thing by the end of the night and take her back to your room. I even saw a few vixens who work here as maids."

"I'm not interested."

"Hmm?"

"I'm not interested," John said as he stepped back into Elizabeth's path. "Do you know how many vixens I've been with since Cinza?"

Elizabeth just stared.

"Zero. The same number of vixens I've asked on a date, the same number of vixens I've kissed, and the same number of vixens I've even thought about."

"How noble of you. It's the same numbers of tods for me. Get my heart broken once, shame on you. Get my heart broken twice, shame on me."

"No, shame on anyone who would break your heart, and that mammal only. You shouldn't let my mistakes harden your heart to others. I should be the only one hurting every day, not you."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Even more recently you've affected how much I can trust others. Would you believe that I had an appointment booked with you? I was scheduled to come in for a consultation on August 25, exactly six weeks after the day you were arrested."

"No, I don't believe it. What would you have needed a consultation for?"

Elizabeth ran her paws up and down her cheeks. "Wrinkles." She sighed. "I saw your ads—your photo next to photos of some of your patients before and after. I didn't recognize you at all. My own ex-husband! I almost let you touch me."

John shook his head. "No, I wouldn't have."

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't recognize me, but I would have recognized you. I performed a lot of surgeries I thought were unnecessary because mammals were willingly paying for trivial cosmetics. We were all adults, so I kept my personal opinions out of others' decisions. But I would never knowingly harm a patient, which is what I would have been doing if I had performed surgery on you."

"It's too late for silver-tongued pick-up lines, John."

"It's never too late for the truth. Everyone gets older, but that doesn't mean they get any less beautiful." John set his plate down on the floor in front of him and took his wallet out of his back pocket. He flipped past his license in the first clear plastic pocket of the multi-pocket organizer in the center and pulled a slightly worn, slightly faded color photo of two formally dressed foxes out of the second pocket. He held it up so he could see it and Elizabeth at the same time. "Yup. Still just as beautiful as the day I married you." He handed it to his ex-wife.

The last time Elizabeth had seen that photo was when she had destroyed all the copies she had. It had been twenty-eight years. She stared in silence.

"The eleven years we shared. When we welcomed Nick into our lives. When I met with Cinza. In the divorce court. In my new apartment. The night I tried to kill myself. When I was beaten. Each time I turned into someone else. During my interview at the hospital. When I opened my own practice. During every surgery I performed. When I was arrested. When I was forgiven by Nick. When I was forgiven by Gideon. When I went to prison. When I was released from prison. When I watched Nick say, 'I do.' Every day. Every breath. Every heartbeat. You have always been with me."

"John, it's been twenty-eight years. Isn't it time to move on?"

"That would be asking me to do the impossible. An affair of the flesh was never an affair of the heart. I loved you then, I love you today, and I will love you forever. And I will never forgive myself."

Elizabeth held the photo up so she could see it and John at the same time. Except for the color of his eyes since he no longer wore the false blue contact lenses of Dr. Cunningham, there were no similarities between 1979 and 2018. All the features she had once loved were lost ultimately because their marriage had been lost, in skills discovered only after his life was nearly lost because he had lost everything else. John Wilde of the past and John Wilde of the present were different foxes in so many ways, but one thing had not changed: the love he had for her. Rather than turn to bitterness over the years considering everything he had endured he had ultimately endured only because of the dissolution of his marriage, it remained as strong as ever, even though he must have known that loving her was in vain.

It was every bit as strong as her hatred. Maybe stronger.

It was every bit as strong as the love she had once had for him.

She looked at the eyes of John in the photo: honest and full of life. She looked at the eyes of the fox in front of her: honest but full of pain and regret. The governor may have let him out of prison, but he would never be free.

Though he had made a mistake she had thought she could never let go, deep inside she liked the eyes of the old John better.

"I can't move on either. You only get one love of your life." Without warning, Elizabeth tore the photo in half. "I hate you, John Wilde." She thrust a torn piece at him. "I hate you because I loved you. I hate you because I still do."

John took the piece from his ex-wife. It was the half with Elizabeth in it.

"I'm sorry, John." She collapsed against him, crying.

"Sorry?" John said as he held her for the first time since 1990. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"For not listening. For refusing to give you even a chance to explain. For hurting our son by keeping his father out of his life. For driving you to nearly take your own life. For—"

John sniffled. "No. None of that. I am responsible for everything. I brought everything on myself."

"But—"

"But nothing. If you're trying to ease my pain, Elizabeth, the only way you can do it is by _not_ blaming yourself."

But Elizabeth's next words cut John even more. "I forgive you."

"No. Stop. You're rushing things. I don't deserve that. Not now. Not ever."

"Twenty-eight years isn't rushing. And it's not your decision. It's mine."

John could say nothing. He just held on to Elizabeth tighter. His collar began to feel damp from all the tears that had run down to it.

He was so lost in the unbelievability of the moment that it was through his sense of taste, not sight or touch, that first told him that Elizabeth was kissing him. The flavor was like the fuel to a time machine, transporting him back to the happiest moments they had shared.

Across the room, Nick walked back to Judy after seeing Finnick for a moment, tears in his eyes. "I never thought I'd see the day," he said as he pointed toward his parents. "Our love has brought more than just us together."

"The Electric Slide" came to a sudden end on the dance floor at the request of the groom. Most guests wondered why Bleat Loaf's 2006 recording of "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" replaced it.

One, and then two, understood.

"Come on, John," Elizabeth said as she took her rekindled love's paws and looked toward the dance floor. "What's a wedding without a dance from the parents of the groom?"

* * *

More than 2.5 years after its first words were written, my first true multi-chapter _Zootopia_ fanfic has now been fully published.

This story is the result of two ideas I had in 2016. First, a "what if" idea that Nick and Gideon are half brothers. Nick's father being absent from the movie and Gideon only briefly mentioning a family without naming specific relatives meant this was at least plausible in the world of fan fiction. Second, the idea that Nick's father had changed his identity to Dr. Frank Cunningham at some point after no longer being in the lives of Nick and Mrs. Wilde. This idea came to me after seeing an "ad" for Cunningham in _The Official Zootopia Handbook_, which heavily reuses concept art and which portrays this doctor with a drawing of the cut character Mr. Wilde, who is often called John and shown to be a tailor. I changed one thing about Cunningham, however. In the ad, he appears to be a dermatologist, promising "a beautiful, thick, shiny coat" without surgery, whereas I made him a plastic surgeon to better make use of the skills John would have already had as a tailor.

John is probably the most complex character I've ever written. In my earliest thoughts, his downward spiral originated from being falsely accused of burning down his tailor shop for insurance money, but I soon decided that an affair would make for a better, more dramatic story. Despite his serious mistakes, though, I always wanted John to be a character who readers could feel for too.

Although I've never been in a relationship and have no plans to be, I believe in monogamy. While sometimes forgiving infidelity can happen quickly, Elizabeth isn't a villain for having chosen divorce or for taking decades to forgive. The "right" choice is often incredibly complex and deeply personal—there really isn't a one-size-fits-all approach.

If you enjoyed how I write in the _Zootopia_ universe, you may also enjoy my collections of shorter works, _Zootopia Scenes and Shorts_ and _One Hundred DrabbleZ_. I also hope to write more _Zootopia_ material in the future.

Thank you for reading, and an especially big thanks to those who provided feedback—the only true currency of fan works.

—_GrandOldPenguin (a.k.a. SJF_Penguin)_


End file.
